Changing Days
by hardly loquacious
Summary: Another character sketch form Jane's point of view. One possible way that he could move on from his family's death. Jane/Lisbon, because their relationship whatever it is or turns out to be fascinates me.


Again, thanks to everyone who reviewed my last fic. This one is slightly shippier, because even if I'm not 100% sure it would work, I do love Jane and Lisbon as a couple.

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Changing days

On the day Patrick Jane left the mental institution he made it his mission to kill Red John.

Red John had killed his family, taken everything in his life that really mattered, why should he not exact payment? An eye for an eye, a life for a life, or in this case, several lives for one, and that one a person whose death most people would agree would be a blessing to society. Besides, what poetic justice for a serial killer to die the same way he killed his victims. Somehow when Sophie had told him to "Be well," he didn't think this was what she meant, but the vendetta was better than the all-consuming grief and guilt.

On the day Patrick Jane joined the CBI he met Theresa Lisbon.

She was wary and reserved, but polite, and seemed perfectly willing to have him on her team once she heard about his track record for closing cases. She was competent and capable and when she assured him that they would catch Red John he believed her.

On the day Patrick Jane first made Lisbon put her head down on her desk for a full minute he realized he was having fun.

After all, it wasn't entirely his fault he hadn't told her that he'd known who the killer was for a full two days before the rest of the team had arrested him. She was the one who'd insisted that he stop telling her all his theories if he didn't have any proof.

Besides, after that she seemed more willing to listen.

On the day Patrick Jane first saw Lisbon in green he realized he was attracted to her.

There'd been some sort of emergency at the CBI, a bomb threat in a government building or something; he can't remember the details now. Lisbon had been called in from a date of some kind with no time to spare to go home and change her clothes. She'd flown into the office in black heels, dress pants and an emerald blouse, a colour far brighter than her usual office attire. As she started barking orders Jane realized that he'd never seen her eyes look so lovely and that he couldn't seem to take his own eyes off of them. Although he made himself forget the attraction (what could he possibly offer when he was living only to kill a man?) he never quite forgot the effect that wearing that specific shade of green had on the green in her eyes.

On the day Lisbon tackled a suspect on a stakeout then stopped for ice cream Patrick Jane realized that he liked her.

They'd been tracking a drug dealer wanted for questioning for the murder of three men for a couple of days now and were currently camped outside of what was believed to be one of his favourite meeting places. It had to be well over thirty degrees in the sun, and even though the car was parked under a tree with the windows open it was doing little to relieve the heat, besides the team had been there for hours. When the suspect finally arrived and then predictably gave chase, the agents were forced to pursue. When Cho and Rigsby cornered him in the backyard forcing him to change directions, Lisbon came barreling around the corner from the other direction knocking the man to the ground.

On her way back to the car she said to him offhandedly (as if plowing into a man considerably larger than herself was an everyday occurrence), "Okay, now that we've taken care of the suspect how about we deal with the heat?" Then she smiled at his look of confusion. He smiled too when they pulled into a nearby Dairy Queen and then he smiled even more when she managed to get more ice cream on her face then a two-year old at a picnic.

On the day Patrick Jane met his former in-laws for the first time in five years he realized that his wife would have wanted him to move on.

They hadn't really kept in contact beyond Christmas cards or the odd phone call for birthdays or anniversaries, but they were going to be in town for the weekend so he figured he should at least meet them for dinner. Although it was awkward and a bit tragic, the evening seemed to be going pleasantly, he asked them about their golf games, laughed off any inquiries about current relationships, praised the food, discussed the weather, but then his father in law asked him what he was doing with his time.

"Oh, I'm still working for the CBI. And I can assure you, I fully intend to catch the man responsible for your daughter and granddaughter's death and make him very sorry."

The older man got an odd look on his face, "Well, I'll admit Patrick that while part of me wouldn't mind seeing the man who killed them die slowly and painfully, do you really think your wife would want you to devote your life to vengeance? Become a murderer? Oh, I know you didn't say it aloud, but it's as plain as the nose on your face what you plan to do."

Then his wife chimed in with, "Besides, don't you think they would have wanted you to move on and be happy?"

Unable to meet their eyes he looked down at his empty plate. Thankfully the server arrived at that moment to take it away, preventing his reply, because deep down he knew they were right.

On the day Patrick Jane first heard Lisbon laugh, really laugh, he realized that what he felt towards her was more than attraction and more than liking.

It was the middle of a case in the country. They were walking from the crime scene to their car across a field. He was explaining in detail why the boyfriend was probably not the killer.

"It was his clothes on the video don't you see?"

"His clothes. Of course. How stupid of me."

"They were perfectly clean. This field is covered in mud because of all the rain we've been getting. There's no way he could have gotten the body here and then half buried it without getting absolutely covered in mud. I'm surprised we're as clean as we are now. There's just no way he could have done it. He was seen wearing the same clothes just before the murder, and he couldn't have washed them between the time of the murder and the time he was caught on video afterwards."

Unfortunately Patrick had been so engrossed in his explanation, so set on convincing her, that he didn't notice the ditch until it was too late. As he climbed out, literally dripping mud from the waist down, he realized that he'd never heard Lisbon laugh so hard in his life. The expression on her face made the likely loss of his suit seem almost worth it. She could barely choke out the words to tell him he'd convinced her.

It wasn't until later that day, when he was remembering that expression for approximately the hundredth time that he realized he was totally, utterly and completely screwed.

On the day Patrick Jane saw a young man's life ruined he questioned the virtue of revenge.

The man's mother and younger brother had been killed and his step-father had been the most likely suspect, but nobody could find him. When the team finally tracked the man down they entered the house only to be greeted by the sight of the twenty-year old holding a gun staring at his step-father's corpse. The young man was shaking and in shock. He looked up at Lisbon and said "It won't bring them back will it?" She shook her head and quietly cuffed him. He didn't say anything to Jane, but when the former psychic looked into the son's eyes he saw the terror that came from the certainty that he'd become as bad as the very thing he'd set out to kill. Patrick heard later that he'd had to be put on suicide watch in the holding cell.

The ride back to the CBI was silent, but halfway there Lisbon took his hand in hers.

On the day Patrick Jane really thought about the consequences he decided not to kill Red John.

After all, death, no matter how drawn out, how brutal, or how much it satisfied his sense of poetic justice, would still be relatively quick. To a man like Red John, a man who loved pageantry, fear and control, a lifetime impotent in prison would be far worse punishment then even the most painful death. Besides, death would be a kind of justice, and that Red John definitely did not deserve.

Not to mention, it meant that he too didn't have to become a murderer, something he'd begin to wonder if he'd even really be capable of. A miserable life in prison for the psychopath would be closure enough for him. When he told Lisbon she didn't say anything, not even "I told you so," but he could see the relief in her eyes.

On each day after Patrick Jane decided not to kill Red John he asked Theresa Lisbon out to dinner and even got used to not looking so surprised when she kept accepting


End file.
